


Abience

by nepentheandkalopsia



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Attempted Rape, Sexual Assault, THIS MIGHT BE VERY TRIGGERING PLEASE READ WARNING, internal victim-blaming, please forgive me for this I just needed to write this to vent, sexual assault done by the original character, some parts might read weird because it removed my italics how do i put them back in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nepentheandkalopsia/pseuds/nepentheandkalopsia
Summary: ***please read notes, this fanifc could be very triggering for some people***





	Abience

**Author's Note:**

> *****MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING*****  
> This story contains sexual assault, attempted rape, and internal victim-blaming. PLEASE do not read if this could trigger you or harm you in some way. Your mental health is more valuable than any story, so please don't jeopardize it for one!!!
> 
> ~
> 
> Abience
> 
> n. (psychology)  
>  The strong urge to withdraw or avoid a situation or an object

There were days when Crowley hated his job.

Of course, he loved being a ranger! He couldn't imagine his life without his job and Crowley felt like his life would be excructiatingly boring without it. Crowley liked helping people, and more than that, he liked the freedom that came with his chosen profession. From the time he was little, he'd admired the rangers and little Crowley could never have imagined that his dreams of one day being one would come true. So he wouldn't give up being a ranger for the world! What he would give up, though, Crowley reflected with a grimace, was the paperwork and social events that came with being the leader of the rangers.

He'd expected to hate the paperwork part of the job. It was mind-numbingly boring and there was just so much of it. Crowley hated the lack of fresh air and sunshine, and sitting at a desk for hours, trying to focus and- so many things about it, really. The social events were awful and boring in their own right. Crowley privately thought they were a waste of his time. Why did he need to go and politely chat with a bunch of drunk nobles about nothing when he could be out shooting or training or writing reports and generally being miserable in his quarters? It was useless.

Of course, he was currently stuck at such an event, observing from the edge of the room. It was full of chattering, loud, intoxicated lords and ladies, dancing and laughing. Dressed in an array of fine garments in the hopes of showing each other up, they looked absolutely garish. Crowley supposed he might look a bit out of place himself in his own mottled cloak and rough clothes but he didn't much care. He just hated being so bored. It was, Crowley admitted, becoming a slight problem. 

The previous month, he'd caught himself being glad that there had been an attempt on Lord Norris' life! He'd hunted down and shot the man responsible and had almost been grateful to the would-be assassin for breaking the monotony of the party. He still felt rather bad about that, even if Lord Norris was fine but shaken from the event. 

That, Crowley reflected morosely, was the whole reason for this current party. The old man was finally retiring from his position in the castle after almost fifty years of service. Lord Norris was being replaced with his his son, Lord Albert, who was well into his thirties now but didn't seem to begrudge his father his position at all. It was hard to hate Lord Norris. 

Crowley was going to miss the old man, who had been a good man and a better leader, and made his descisons fairly and with good temper despite his age. The red-haired ranger had high hopes for the noble's son, who had handled the party so far with a fair amount of grace. Crowley thought they'd get along. The ranger just wished he didn't have to be here to welcome the man into his new position.

Crowley let his eyes drift across the crowd again, tramping down the urge to leave. He needed to wait at least another half hour before he could politely excuse himself- not that anyone but Duncan would really notice him missing at this point. He didn't socialize a lot, which might be one of the reasons Duncan kept demanding his presence. But, Duncan ordered it so Crowley had to be there. 

The king had insisted on it this time in particular after the last incident, and especially since Lord Albert was related to Lord Norris, so Crowley had dutifully showed up to suffer his sentence. It wasn't like it was a difficult job, he tried to reason with himself, and every other part of being a ranger was, respectively, way harder. It just felt worse when his mind was melting from boredom. The ranger almost found himself hoping for some usually ridiculous castle drama to spice things up.

As Crowley did another scan of the room, he saw Duncan effortlessly detach himself from the ever-moving crowd of nobles and head in Crowley's direction, Lord Albert at his side. Crowley straightened up, trying to look like he wasn't wallowing in his own misery. Judging from the eyeroll Duncan sent in his direction, it wasn't a great attempt.

“Crowley! There you are,” Duncan exclaimed, thankfully not mentioning Crowley's obvious hatred of the party, “I wanted you to formally meet Lord Albert,” he waved the tall, fit man forward, “Lord Albert, this is the commander of the Ranger Corps,” the man's gaze flickered over Crowley with an almost impressed look.

“Crowley Meratyn,” Crowley introduced himself, holding out a hand, “congratulations on the position,” Lord Albert shook his hand firmly, smiling widely.

“No, no, the pleasure's mine,” he said, “and thank you,” Crowley nodded back politey, turning to Duncan in the hopes of excusing himself from the party. Duncan was alread speed walking back to the crowd and damn bastard this was his plan all along. With an internal curse, Crowley turned back toward Lord Albert, biting back an exasperated sigh.

“I must admit,” Lord Albert continued, “I'm a bit nervous about this all. My father's left some big shoes to fill, and I'm worried I'll fall short of the expectations he set,” he sipped his drink, brows furrowed. Crowley stared at the man for a moment, at a slight loss. Why on earth was he talking to Crowley about this? Why not his father or his friends? Crowley was just starting to open his mouth when Lord Albert brightened, casting hopeful eyes to Crowley, “oh, but I'm sure you know what that's like! You could help me out, maybe?” Crowley raised an eyebrow at the man, unimpressed.

“My precessors shoes were almost non-existant, Lord Albert,” Crowley reminded the other man a little stiffly, “so no, I'm afraid I don't know. Regardless, our work is different enough that I wouldn't be able to help you, even if I wasn't already busy enough with my own,” the man's expression dimmed.

“Oh, I see,” he said, more withdrawn “I didn't mean to dump everything on you like that. I suppose I just don't know anyone here yet. I meant no offense, ranger,” he sighed a little looking down into his cup a little sadly. Shifting uncomfortably, Crowley remembered a little guiltily what it was like to adjust to life at the castle and settle into his role. 

Relenting, Crowley shook his head and added, a bit more gently, “for what it's worth, I'm sure you'll be fine here. Your father spoke confidently of you and you seem like a good man. I wouldn't worry.” Lord Albert brightened right back up at his words, smiling at Crowley.

“Thank you, Crowley. That means a lot to me,” Lord Albert said, and Crowley just shrugged, praying that he'd reached his quota of small talk and could politely duck out of the party. Duncan wouldn't mind so much if he left after mingling. Crowley's eyes flickered to glance behind Lord Albert and he saw that, like a godsend, a group of nobles was heading in their direction. 

“Best luck with your position, Lord Albert,” the ranger said, “and enjoy the rest of your party,” Crowley nodded to the people behind the newly appointed lord, and when the man turned to look, the red-haired ranger took the opportunity to slip away into the cool, dark hallways of the castle.

~ 

Crowley leaned back in his chair, listening to the idle chat of the nobles around him. The weekly meeting had yet to begin, as Duncan had yet to arrive, but it seemed everyone was in fairly good spirits so he imagined it would be an easy day. The most difficult part of his job by far was dealing with the nobles. The ranger heard footsteps approaching and turned slightly in his chair in acknowledgement.

“Crowley!” Lord Albert slid into the chair next to the ranger, smiling brightly, “The position's been going wonderfully!” Lord Albert cheerfully informed Crowley, without giving the ranger a chance to ask or answer, “Everything is going smoother than I had expected. Thank you for your kind words the other night,” he reached out a patted Crowley's shoulder, who shifted away.

“Glad to hear that,” Crowley answered truthfully, tracking Duncan's entrance out of the corner of his eye, “and I'm glad to help, Lord Albert.”

“Come now, none of that! Call me Albert,” Lord Albert offered, almost hopefully, “we're friends now, yes?” Crowley turned his full attention on the man, raising an eyebrow. Was he serious? Practically vibrating on the edge of his seat, however, the man was clearly expecting an answer from the ranger.

“My apologies, Lord Albert,” Crowley answered, as low as he could to avoid embarrassing the man in front of the other nobles, “but no.” The lord's face fell a little, but then he quickly straightened back up. 

“I see. I've misread the situation,” Lord Albert turned away from Crowley briskly, who also turned his eyes up to the front of the room. Duncan was giving him a slightly confused look as he straightened his papers. Crowley shrugged back, at a loss himself. Duncan gave him one last, long look, and then, shaking his head with an exasperated smile, started the meeting.

~

“Crowley! What a surprise!” Crowley turned and smiled politely to Lord Albert, who was jogging up the hall towards him. The ranger, of course, wasn't surprised. He'd heard Lord Albert coming- though if he'd been aware of who it was, Crowley thought with an internal wince, he would have hidden and avoided him. Still, Crowley hadn't expected to run into Lord Albert quite so soon after his rejection of friendship, but he supposed the castle wasn't that big.

“Is it?” he questioned, a bit dryly. The other man let out a laugh, like Crowley had said something funny before turning his gaze upon him. Stomach doing a cold flop in his stomach, Crowley took a step back. Something about the other man just put Crowley on edge. He couldn't explain it.

“Well, it's just that people don't typically see rangers, you know,” Lord Albert said, tilting his head, “but here you are! Out in the open where anyone can see,” Crowley fought the urge to roll his eyes, “or perhaps I'm just special, huh?” Lord Albert gave Crowley his weird, wide smile, who just stared blankly at the man for a moment.

“I wasn't trying to be hidden,” the ranger finally settled on, and the man's smile grew wider- Crowley hadn't considered that that was even possible.

“No?” Lord Albert asked, then dropped his voice conspiratorially, “Oh come on, you can tell me-” he practically purred, putting Crowley's hair on end- “is this why your fellow rangers put you on desk duty?” Crowley snapped his head furiously towards Lord Albert.

“Lord Albert! I will not-”

“No! No, Crowley, my apologies,” Lord Albert interrupted, not seeming sorry in the slightest. Rather, Crowley noted with growing anger, he seemed amused to have riled him up so much. “I had no intention of offending you, I just don't have a filter sometimes. I-”

“Crowley!” Duncan's voice rang through the empty hallway and Crowley jumped, for once taken by surprise. The king was by Crowley's side in a moment, a hand coming up to rest on the ranger's back. “Is everything alright?” his cool green eyes slid to Lord Albert, and Crowley was surprised to see the coldness in them. Lord Albert seemed nonplussed, however, giving the king a sweeping bow.

“Your majesty!” Lord Albert exclaimed, “Yes, everything's quite alright, we were just talking.”

“I wasn't asking you,” Duncan's voice was quiet but sharp, and Lord Albert, for once, fell silent.

“Everything's fine, my lord,” Crowley forced out, still seething with anger but unwilling to get the new lord in trouble. He felt Duncan's eyes on him, appraising. Thinking back to Pritchard's lessons on his temper with a pang of grief, Crowley took a deep breath in and held it for a few seconds before letting it go. “Really, it was nothing more than a bad joke. You know how my temper gets,” he insisted, and Duncan's frown deepened.

“Crowley, I have a few things to discuss with you, if you have the time,” Duncan said, in clear dismissal to the third man. A shadow of anger crossed Lord Albert's face before he bowed again. When he came back up, however, it had vanished.

“Your majesty,” he said to Duncan, before he turned his eyes on Crowley again, “my sincerest apologies, Crowley,” he gave him that weird wide smile again.

“My apologies also,” Crowley told him, feeling like he was a little kid again, being forced to apologize to one of his siblings by his mother, “I should not have lost my temper.” Lord Albert nodded, seeming pleased, before sweeping away around the two of them. Crowley watched until he was well around the croner before turning back to Duncan and sighing heavily.

“I thought I was getting my temper under control,” he told the king guiltily, scrubbing at his face tiredly. Duncan's hand rubbed his shoulder almost comfortingly before finally dropping away.

“No, don't apologize,” Duncan told him, voice almost stern, “I've never seen you that worked up. I'm sure you had valid reason to be angry,”

“No,” Crowley shook his head, sighing heavily, “I should have had more control. That's on me regardless of what he says,” Duncan frowned and studied his lead ranger for a moment.

“Not everything is your responsibility, Crowley,” Duncan finally said, tone gentle, “Still, if he gives you too much trouble, come to me. I can always replace him, you know. Technically, we're just trying him out right now,” Crowley nodded, but privately, he knew he wouldn't go to the king about his issues with the noble. He wasn't a child- he could handle his problems himself.

~

Another boring event full of boring people and even worse, Crowley thought; a clingy Lord Albert.

A month had passed since their previous argument and the other man had taken every opportunity to get closer to Crowley. He insisted on sitting next to Crowley during councils and chattering his ear off during social gatherings, all while never letting Crowley speak a damn word. The ranger had found no peace outside of the places where he was forced to see Lord Albert either, as the man had taken to hunting the red-head down between events and meetings. 

Sneaking around the castle at all times proved to be more of a challenge than he would have expected, but maybe, Crowley had thought while wasting time the castle's nooks and crannies, it should join the ranger curriculum. Of course, hopefully, this particular situation wasn't what they'd be training for, he'd bemoaned, and if he ever got back to his office he'd write a letter to Halt and run the idea by him. Not that Crowley was even safe in his office, as once or twice Lord Albert had tried knocking on Crowley's office's door. The ranger had steadfastly ignored him until he went away, a good half hour later.

Still, despite his trouble with Lord Albert, Crowley wasn't about to discuss the issue with Duncan. What if it got the man sacked? Then they would be out some defenses and risk insulting Lord Norris and Lord Albert- which might get them into loads of trouble with the other, older nobles who still considered Duncan somewhat unfit for King. No, this was something Crowley would have to deal with on his own. He was a King's Ranger! That in and of itself, Crowley thought, made him more than qualified to deal with an annoying, persistent noble who couldn't take no for an answer. That was half his job, really. He wouldn't let Lord Albert get under his skin and the man would eventually give up on trying to make the two of them into the very best of friends.

“There you are!” speak of the devil and he shall appear. The singsong voice cut through Crowley's thoughts and he turned with a slight grimace. Lord Albert was sauntering towards him with a wide, stretching smile while struggling to balance two large tankards in his arms.

“Lord Albert,” Crowley greeted dryly, wishing dearly for the black magic rangers were fabled to have. What he wouldn't give to have the ability to magically vanish into the wall or floor and not have to deal with this man. As it were, though, he'd have to stay and pretend to be nice. In comparison, acting was a way shittier power to have.

“I was wondering if you'd run off already!” Lord Albert told him brightly, and Crowley held back a wince. Admittedly, the ranger been leaving noble parties earlier and earlier since Lord Albert had arrived to the castle, for no other reason than avoiding the man. Duncan had mentioned his departures somewhat disapprovingly but Crowley continued his silence on Lord Albert. Sometimes, on Lord Albert's worst days, Crowley almost found himself wishing for the boring events of the past.

“No, no,” he smiled awkwardly, “I'll be here for awh-”

“Here!” Lord Albert interrupted, thrusting on of the tankards at Crowley, “I got this for you.” Crowley raised an eyebrow at the man, ignoring him when he shook it again in offering.

“What is it?” the ranger asked suspiciously instead, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. As a policy, Crowley tried not to take offered beverages from the nobles on the off chance they were poisoned. While Crowley doubted Lord Albert would try to poison him after how much time the noble had put into trying to become his friend, he reasoned that it never hurt to be safe.

“Oh, it's nothing but rum!” Lord Albert declared cheerfully, then added in a more conspiratorial way, “very, very good rum.” Crowley frowned at the man.

“Well, I try not to drink,” the ranger lied, “but thank you for the gesture,” Lord Albert's eyes darkened for a split moment and Crowley's stomach get cold. Maybe he'd been wrong about the man- or maybe Lord Albert was just insulted? “Is there a problem?” Crowley asked, carefully keeping his tone lighter, but letting a hint of challenge slip into the words.

“Oh, no!” Lord Albert hastily insisted, “I just thought you could use some, what with how stiff you always are!” Crowley's other eyebrow raised this time as he stared down the man.

“Excuse me?” he demanded, before reminding himself, temper, Crowley, rein it in. 

“Well, you know,” Lord Albert hurriedly explained, “you're so busy and worked up all the time I thought it might be nice for you to relax some! Live a little, Crowley!” he thrust the drink out again and Crowley stepped back this time.

“I don't-” the ranger choked back the sharp response. He's trying to be nice. Crowley took a deep breath in, begging his temper to just stay put. “No, Lord Albert,” he finally said after a moment, making the words as firm and clear as possible, “I'm perfectly alright but I appreciate the thought.”

“Oh, come on, you're hardly fine!” Lord Albert exclaimed, “Look at how tense you are-” Crowley didn't bother pointing out that that was his fault- “you'll kill yourself with the stress of this all!” he stepped towards Crowley again, still waving the drink, “Loosen up, have some fun!” 

“I-” Crowley started, jolting back as Lord Albert stumbled, trying to follow. The bigger man pitched forward, falling into Crowley. The ranger barely managed to catch the man, stumbling a few steps backwards with his weight. Now steadied, Crowley realized with despair that they were both soaked in rum. Crowley wrinked his nose at the smell.

“Oh,” Lord Albert drew away, eyes flashing, almost- triumphantly? “Crowley I'm so sorry!” he exclaimed, voice not particularly sorry at all. Crowley shook his head carefully.

“No,” the ranger started, “it's okay-”

“No, no, let me help!” Lord Albert sprung forward, attempting to sop up the liquid on Crowley's clothes with his own cloak. One of his hands gripped the red-head's arm tightly, while the other came up to grasp his hip tight, tugging Crowley in. Lord Albert's lips quirked up just a bit and Crowley jerked back, cheeks burning as he felt the gaze of curious nobles on them.

“No, that's not necessary!” Crowley stressed, “I'm fine on my own, Lord Albert!” the noble shook his head and went for him again but Crowley ducked away easily, “I said no, Lord Albert,” he scolded, slightly louder, and the man froze, suddenly seeming aware of their audience.

“I-” Lord Albert started.

“Go home and sleep it off,” Crowley lowly cut in, before stating, slightly louder, “no harm done,” then, concealing his discomfort, Crowley turned neatly and swept as gracefully as possible from the room under the gaze of whispering nobles.

As he walked, shivering, through the halls of the castle, the ranger couldn't help the unsettling thought that Lord Albert had not been drunk enough to put on that show. He could feel his skin crawling where the man had been gripping it, and Crowley tried to convince himself it was the smell of the rum that was making him feel sick.

~

The cold, sick feeling from the other day continued to linger and Crowley doubled his efforts to stay out of Lord Albert's sight. Every time he heard the noble's voice in the halls or caught brief sight of him, his insides started crawling. He had even begged out of the last meeting just to avoid seeing him which was stupid, Crowley told himself bitterly because technically, Lord Albert hadn't even done anything wrong! Nothing that he could prove, anyway, the ranger carefully reminded himself, unwilling to forget the man's smirk or the way he'd grabbed Crowley.

Lord Albert, Crowley had decided, seemed to have formed some sort of infatuation with him. Not that that would bother him, usually, because Crowley didn't mind that the man was supposedly gay or liked him! It's just, the man's interest went beyond infatuation, didn't it? It was an obsession. A straight-up, creepy obsession with the ranger that Crowley didn't know how to stop.

But he had to, didn't he? Because Crowley had noticed that he wasn't the only one Lord Albert creeped out. The servants tended to give the man a lot of space, too, and he'd seen the serving girls giving him sympathetic and pitying looks when he was trying to deal with the noble. So it was up to the ranger to find a way to stop Lord Albert from- doing what, exactly?

That was the problem, wasn't it? Crowley realized with a sinking heart, that he couldn't stop Lord Albert from being overly friendly or weird. That was no accusation. What was he supposed to tell Duncan? That the man gave Crowley the creeps and to please risk angering other nobles for him because Crowley was anxious? It was laughable at best, and worse, Duncan might actually do it out of some twisted sense of loyalty to him! Crowley couldn't risk the safety of the country because of his own discomfort.

He'd written a letter to Halt explaining the situation but ended up scrapping it and talking about the castle idea instead. Crowley couldn't explain why, but he was almost... ashamed of the way Lord Albert had been treating him. Ashamed that there was nothing he could do about it. Ashamed that he couldn't even talk about it to the person he cared the most about in the world. But Crowley just didn't think that Halt needed to be worried about him when he had his own troubles and an apprentice to worry about. No, Crowley had decided, his letter and problems would be nothing more than a bother to the Hibernian ranger, so the red-head had thrown it out and started over with more gentle subjects.

“Crowley!” the voice sent a chill up Crowley's spine and he begrudgingly turned, gripping Halt's letter tight enough to risk tearing it. All he wanted was to mail his goddamn letter! Was that too much to ask? “I haven't gotten to see you properly recently,” Lord Albert said brightly as he reached him, smiling down at the ranger. Crowley didn't smile back. “What are you doing all the way over here?”

“I'm just sending a letter,” Crowley said carefully, keeping his face blank. What he was mailing should be of no concern to the other man. Lord Albert tilted his head to the side, studying him closely.

“Oh? To who?” Lord Albert asked, eyes curious, but with a light of jealousy, of all things, behind them.   
Why? Crowley thought, bristling, what the hell right does he have to be angry over me having other correspondence? He barely even knows me!

“That's not your business, Lord Albert,” Crowley snapped, “and I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of mine. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way,” the ranger brushed past the noble, steps echoing louder than usual.

“Wait!” Lord Albert called, rushing to fall into step beside him, “is it really that urgent?” He shoved his way in front of the ranger, arms held wide and eyebrows raised. Crowley bit the inside of his cheek. Important to him, maybe, but not the good of the country. But did the noble need to know that?

“Yes, it's very important,” Crowley stressed, fists curling, “now please get out of my way.” Lord Albert hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily, arms falling to his sides.

“Very well, then,” he relented, “I won't keep you,” Crowley couldn't help the relief that flooded his chest and he nodded to the taller man and made to move around him. Smoothly, Lord Albert reached out and brushed some stray hair out of Crowley's face. Jolting backward, the ranger felt his anger- and fear, of all things!- slam right back into his chest.

“What are you-”

“Have a good day, Crowley!” Lord Albert interrupted cheerfully, before brushing past Crowley and strolling away down the hallway, whistling. Crowley stared after him, heart hammering in his chest. Fighting down the sudden urge to cry, Crowley sat down on the cold castle floor, trying to take a deep breath and clear his head. It took a few minutes, but his heart slowly calmed and he could breathe normally again. 

Crowley paused, wrestling with himself for a moment. Then, studying his letter to Halt, Crowley took tugged out his quill and what little portable ink he had left and added:

'Also, Lord Norris has retired from his position after last month's fiasco. His son, Lord Albert, is taking over and he's very strange, to say the least. I've seen and spoken to him only a handful of times and he's convinced we're friends. I'm not a fan of the man, and something about him puts me on edge. He's a bit handsy too, and it's got to a point it's an issue, especially amongst the servants. I can't explain why, but there is something wrong with the man! It remains to see just what.'

Vague on his own issues, Crowley thought in satisfaction, but clear enough for Halt to truly understand his dislike of the man. Sighing heavily, the ranger wished that Halt were there. The Hibernian had no qualms about making a fuss for the nobles to clean up amongst themselves. He'd know what to do; and if he didn't, he'd help Crowley figure something out. Or at least make him feel better. Rubbing his forehead and trying to blink away the headache he felt coming on, Crowley felt like he needed some of that right now.

~

When Crowley was handed Halt's return letter, it was all he could do to not tear it open on the spot. As it was, however, he had to wait through yet another council with Lord Albert breathing down his neck and Duncan shooting him concerned glances. Yes, he was on edge. Yes, he was being unusually quiet. But that didn't mean anything, really, and thus was no cause for concern.

When the meeting was over, Crowley was the first out of the door, ignoring the look on Duncan's face that said he wanted to talk to him. The king could wait or summon him if it was urgent, Crowley had more important things to worry about. Once he was safely locked away in his office, Crowley happily ripped open the letter and delved into the neatly written words within.

Gilan was well and leaning more every day, Halt wrote, and was well on his way to becoming a proper ranger. It was the kind of praise the usually grim man didn't give out easily. It was well deserved, however, and the last time Crowley had seen the apprentice at the gathering, he'd been amazed at how advanced Gilan had been. Halt was a good teacher despite his initial- and current, Crowley knew, though Halt would never admit it- misgivings.

It seemed that Redmont was peaceful and suffering nothing worse than a few stray bandit crews, easily handled. The crops had come in nicely and the village was happy. Lady Pauline was up north on an undisclosed mission. Baron Arald's orphanage was successful- what Halt's obsession with those children was, Crowley didn't know- and the wards were getting bigger every day. The Baron and his wife were healthy and hoped Crowley would come up to visit soon.

Pausing, Crowley considered the letter carefully. Halt seemed, not happy, so to speak, but content. It made the red-haired ranger smile when he thought about how much better the grim ranger was doing since joining the rangers. His eyes were a little less shadowed and his mouth less tight, the tension in his shoulders smoothed out. It made the red-haired ranger unspeakably thankful that Halt was here in Araluen with him, and not off at whichever miserable, terrible place had treated him so badly.

Sometimes, Crowley wondered if he himself had undergone similar changes. If he carried himself with a new lightness now that the rangers were saved and he wasn't as lonely, isolated up north, surrounded by hate and suspicion. It didn't always feel like he was doing better, though, and Crowley sometimes found himself thinking that perhaps in turn for his fellow rangers' freedom, he had to suffer. He wonders if the stress of the job is visible in the line of his shoulders, or if the guilt of Jurgen and Pritchard's deaths dull his eyes.

But- he thinks, shaking himself from his darker thoughts- that's not what has him worked up, not today, anyway. There is a different day for those thoughts. He continues to scan the letter- Halt likes the castle training idea, he's thinking about starting a garden- and finally, in Halt's last paragraph, Crowley found what he was looking for.

'Lord Albert sounds like a bastard. Perhaps you could reprimand him, or tell Duncan your suspicions about him mistreating the servants? Talk to them about it. You'll figure something out; you always do.'

Crowley's heart sank and he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to blink back unexplained tears. To distract himself from the empty pit growing in his stomach, he scanned the last few lines.

'I'm going to come up soon to see you. I'll leave Gilan to man the fief alone- he's got to learn sometime. Maybe we can see about getting you out of that tower for awhile, you must be going even more crazy than you already are.'

With a slightly watery smile, Crowley folded up the letter neatly and tucked it away. Then, pulling his knees up to his chest, the ranger buried his face in his arms and sobbed.

~ 

The sun was shining gently through the halls of the castle and illuminating the stone in long, creviced streaks across the ceiling. From his vantage point in the eaves of the hallway, it was a beautiful sight. Crowley wasn't in any position to appreciate it, however, as he was once again hiding in back halls to avoid Lord Albert. Not that he could for long- there was a banquet Crowley would have to attend later that evening, and the noble was sure to be there. The ranger truly hated the man, in a way he couldn't even describe. After all, the noble had yet to actually do anything real to him! All he had was his instinct in a situation that could have just been Lord Albert being helpful.

Crowley hated it. He hated feeling helpless and having to hide. He hated the way his skin crawled around the man and the cold, sick feeling in his stomach when he heard the noble's voice. Lord Albert had thoroughly wormed his way into the ranger's life to such an extent that Crowley found himself waking up in cold sweat, afraid. He didn't even know what, exactly, he was afraid of. That he would try something? Crowley could fight him off. He just hated the whole situation.

The red-head let his head hit the wall behind him with a solid thunk. Wincing at the stinging in the back of his head, he shook his head and blinked until the bright lines on the wall came back into focus. Crowley wondered how it had come to this. Wasn't he supposed to be stronger than this? Know what to do? But how was he supposed to fight feelings? Explain away fear and anxiety and turn it into something real? Crowley couldn't- and he hated that too, hated that he had to wait for something else to happen before he could do anything about Lord Albert and his all prevailing creepiness.

A shadow flashed across the sun and the ranger froze, hand slipping down to his saxe.

“Crowley?” the accented voice was soft, and a moment later, a similarly clad man was pulling himself into the eaves next to the red-haired ranger. Crowley stared at him for a moment before a smile broke out across his face.

“Halt!” Crowley threw himself at the Hibernian, wrapping his arms tightly around him. After a moment, Halt returned the hug tightly. They stayed like that for a moment before a hand drifted up to the back of Crowley's head, brushing against where it was still tender from the wall. The older ranger hissed in pain and Halt drew back, eyes concerned.

“Are you-”

“How'd you find me?” Crowley interrupted, trying his best to grin brightly at the younger man. Halt's eyebrows drew together.

“I heard a noise,” Halt said with a sympathetic wince, hand going back to search through his hair again, more gently this time, “that was your head?” he questioned, and Crowley nodded, before sighing and resting his head on Halt's shoulder, successfully avoiding any further touching.

“Rookie mistake,” he said lightly, wondering if he wasn't able to solve the Lord Albert issue because he just wasn't a good enough ranger. Was he on desk duty? Did the other rangers bench him? Crowley's throat tightened and he ducked his head down, praying Halt wouldn't notice.

“Hey- are you okay?” his voice was definitely concerned now. Crowley gave up and shook his head, vision blurred. Halt's arm around him tightened, “what's wrong?”

“It's stupid,” Crowley choked out, knees drawing up to his chest. He felt like a child.

“Tell me anyway,” Halt countered, pulling Crowley a little closer so he could rest his head on top of Crowley's. The lump in his throat grew bigger. But how was he supposed to tell Halt? He couldn't burden Halt with this, with all his insecurity and-

“Am I the Ranger's Commandant because I'm not good at fieldwork? Is all I'm good for paperwork?” Crowley blurted, before silently cursing himself.

“What?” Halt asked incredulously, and Crowley's cheeks flushed. He shrugged uncomfortably, looking away from the other ranger miserably.

“I feel like I'm not any good at being a ranger,” Crowley admitted quietly, leaving it at that. He'd done enough damage already. Halt shifted to look at him better.

“Crowley,” Halt finally started, “you're the only reason there is a ranger corps, remember?” It wasn't a question, “you're the leader of the rangers because you're the best of us, Crowley! We all think so,” his words were sincere, but he didn't know! Halt didn't know that Crowley couldn't solve a stupid personal issue on his own! The others would be just as ashamed of Crowley if they knew, he knew they would!

“No, you don't understand!” Crowley snapped, choking on a sob, “I'm trying so hard but I can't fix this, Halt! I don't know what to do!” The words hung in the stifling air. Of fucking course, Crowley thought miserably, wiping at his eyes harshly, he can't even keep one secret.

“Fix what?” Halt's voice is measured and careful. Crowley can't even look at him. He's probably angry, because he was just trying to help Crowley and then the ranger had to go and yell at his best friend. Now Halt was probably going to leave him all alone here with Lord Albert and he'll just keep waiting for the noble to make a fucking move so he can do something- the sob that rips out of him hurts, just like the thought. Isn't that what he deserves, though? To be left alone with this whole big mess? “Crowley,” Halt's voice is softer now, “what's going on?” Crowley shook his head.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, chest heavy. Halt reached over and wiped gently at the tears on his face before pulling him back into a gentle hug. The ranger buried his face into his best friend's shoulder, shaking hard enough he knew the other man could feel it. “I'm sorry,” he choked out again. Halt shook his head, carding his fingers gently through Crowley's red curls.

“I've got you,” Halt murmured, “you're going to be okay,” Crowley didn't know, but he still appreciated the comfort- and that Halt hadn't just left him. “Listen, if you don't want to tell me,” Halt said quietly, “you don't have to right now, or ever,” the older ranger could hear how much Halt hated the idea, hated not knowing, but still, he pushed on, “but if you ever want to tell me, I will listen to you, Crowley. I'm here” Halt murmured quietly, “I want to help you.” Crowley nodded into Halt's cloak, trying to ease the shakes.

How was he supposed to explain this? How was he supposed to tell Halt that what had him shaken up was one persistent, pushy noble who had given him almost no cause to hate him? That he was afraid because of a look in Lord Albert's eyes, because the man had touched him weirdly? It sounded crazy! How could Halt understant all that?

But, Crowley suddenly thought, mind flashing to the banquet later that night, if he could show Halt what Lord Albert was like, then maybe he'd believe him. Then Crowley wouldn't be alone in this anymore. Halt wouldn't think he was crazy then. He would just have to get the two of them to interact and he was sure Halt would hate the noble immediately. Halt hated most nobles on principle.

Finally armed with a plan and a friend, Crowley felt a little more at peace than he had for the past three months.

~ 

From his place at Halt's side, Crowley directed his attention away from the conversation at hand and cast his gaze around the room. Lord Albert had yet to make an appearance- was he hesitant to approach Crowley now that Halt was in the picture? Crowley wasn't sure, and there was no way he was actively searching out the man. Wanting to see him at all felt sacrilegious enough, and the last thing Crowley wanted was to encourage him or give Halt reason to doubt him. No, if this plan was going to work then Lord Albert would need to come to Crowley of his own volition.

Nervously, Crowley picked at his shirt sleeve as he pretended to nod along to whatever Lady Tress was telling him and Halt. He felt the other man's eyes flicker to him for a moment and he tried to stop fidgeting. The older ranger didn't want to give the younger any extra reason to worry about him until they got around Lord Albert. Then, he'd drop his walls a little and hopefully Halt would realize the issue of his own accord. Crowley didn't know what he'd do next, and he especially didn't know what he'd do if it didn't work. It had to. He had no other options.

Crowley glanced around the room again and thought he heard a familiar laugh float over the chatter. Fighting the urge to hunch into himself or sprint for the halls, he barely noticed that Lady Tress was excusing herself until she was gliding away and Halt was tugging on his arm, open concern written across his face. Crowley stared at him for a moment, ready to jump out of his skin.

“We don't need to be here if you're unwell, Crowley,” the Hibernian told him in a soft undertone, which Crowley tried to latch onto, “Duncan would understand if we left early, you know that,” Crowley nodded, fighting between keeping his attention on the crowd and his friend.

“No, no we don't need to leave early, I'm fine,” Crowley insisted, offering Halt a strained smile, “I'm alright. I can stay,” the other ranger frowned, clearly not convinced, but Crowley wasn't about to give this up. He had no idea how long Halt planned to stay and he could not afford to mess up this opportunity that had been offered to him.

“When was the last time you ate?” Halt questioned, unprompted, and Crowley blinked in surprise.

“Does that matter?” Crowley asked, confused. Halt stared at him for a moment, expression unimpressed. Then, with a sigh, the younger ranger reached over and felt Crowley's forehead with the rough back of his hand. His hand was cold and felt kind of nice.

“Yes, it does,” Halt replied simply, eyes tracking Crowley's face carefully, hand lingering a touch longer than necessary. The thought of being treated like a child flashed again in Crowley's head again, but he forced the anger back. Halt's just trying to take care of me, Crowley reminded himself firmly. And he appreciated it! He really did! Crowley just happened to also kind of hate it.

“Then I guess it was-” the red-haired ranger tried to think back- “yesterday, sometime?” Crowley admitted, a little sheepishly. He knew it was breakfast, but he hoped Halt would think dinner. Judging by the deepening frown, Halt was not fooled by the lie of omission. He did have an apprentice after all, Crowley mused.

“Alright, you need some food in you,” Halt said decidedly, taking Crowley's arm gently and steering him towards the edge of the room, “and we're leaving early. I don't know why you want to stay so badly, I know you hate these sorts of events just as much as I do,” the Hibernian groused. A second later, what was happening caught up in Crowley's head. Freezing in horror, he dug his heels into the tile as best he could, shaking his head.

“Halt! No, wait,” he managed to tug his arm away from his best friend and turned to face the very worried other ranger, “I'm fine, okay? This is my job, I have to be here!” Crowley insisted, hoping that Halt bought the lie. Judging from the tightness of his mouth, the Hibernian didn't.

“Duncan will understand if you're sick,” Halt deadpanned, and Crowley shrugged, uncomfortable. They both knew he would. That meant Crowley couldn't use him so...

“I can't neglect my duties just because I don't like it and the king will understand. This is still my job,” he told Halt quietly, who in turn, shut his eyes and sighed.

“Okay, then, fine,” the other ranger relented, though his eyebrows were furrowed. Crowley could tell that he hated letting Crowley stay at the banquet like this and was probably going to continue to try to get him home for the rest of the night. Usually, Crowley would appreciate it, but also, he usually wouldn't be in this sort of situation and desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. 

Gently, Halt pulled Crowley over to the far edge of the room, “stay here,” Halt told him, smoothly brushing some of Crowley's hair out of his face. It was nothing like the possessive, creepy way Lord Albert touched him. Halt was soft and familiar. Comforting. Crowley's lips twitched up and Halt's own frown softened a little bit, “I'm going to go and find you something to eat,” Halt told him softly, patting the red-head's arm once before he stepped away. Crowley blinked.

“Halt! No, wait-!” Crowley swore quietly under his breath, staring at where Halt had already vanished into the crowd. Damn it, Halt was good. Crowley would be proud if he wasn't so nervous. 

The ranger shifted uncomfortably, feeling very exposed up against the towering, grand walls of the ballroom. The room was too big and too small and there were too many people, too much noise and movement and- it was just too much. As his breath picked up, Crowley itched for open fields and dark forests or at least cool, empty hallways. He wanted Halt. The red-head tugged his cloak tighter around him with a bit more force than necessary, like he could somehow blend in with the white walls. Focusing on his breathing, the ranger forced himself to calm down, counting out his breaths carefully.

“Crowley!” he froze. Of course, right when he distracted! Right when Halt wasn't around! Of course it all worked out like this! Taking a deep breath, Crowley didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. The ranger turned around very slowly.

“Lord Albert,” he answered, quietly. The noble's smile was too bright, too sharp. Like he didn't like that Crowley had come with Halt and it made Crowley want to run. But how was that explainable? It wasn't. Halt would come back while Lord Albert was there,and then he would see. Crowley just had to keep Lord Albert distracted for now.

“It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?” Lord Albert asked, and Crowley shrugged. He hadn't been paying attention to the weather. He'd been preoccupied. “I brought you a drink,” the noble said, holding the beverage out to Crowley, who hesitated. But, if he refused, Lord Albert might spill it again, and then Halt would really insist they ditch and Halt would never understand and- Crowley reached out and took the tankard. Lord Abert lit up.

“Thank you,” the ranger grit out, glancing around the room for Halt again. Where was he? How long did it take to get food around here? He should have been noting that! He really was a terrible ranger.

“Is it not to your liking?” Lord Albert questioned, and Crowley raised an eyebrow in question. “The rum,” the man elaborated, “I can go fetch something else if you'd prefer?” A bit of panic arose in Crowley, because what if Halt made them leave when he got back?

“No, no,” Crowley hurried reassured, “this is fine,” he took a sip and bit back the grimace because what the fuck that was strong, “I'm just distracted is all,” he gave the noble an uncomfortable smile. Lord Albert looked delighted, reaching out to pat Crowley's shoulder. He flinched, unbidden, but the man payed it no mind.

“Isn't it wonderful?” the noble practically sang, “Drink up, they import it all the way from Celtica!” Crowley winced and took another draught. Maybe some alcohol would make this night a little more bearable, between Lord Albert's creepiness and Halt's mother-henning. Speaking of, where was the Hibernian? 

Crowley glanced around the room nervously again as Lord Albert chattered on. Did Halt get dragged into another conversation? Surely Halt wouldn't stay away for so long, not when he was seemingly so worried about him. The man didn't care much for small talk at any rate, and even less so when Crowley wasn't there to carry the conversation. Crowley frowned slightly as his vision swum and stepped back, bracing himself on the wall. His stomach turned and he choked back the urge to throw up.

“Crowley?” Lord Albert questioned, “are you alright?” Crowley took in a deep breath, steadying himself in more than one way.

“Just a bit sick, I think,” he muttered out, “drinking on an empty stomach, you know,” his head was pounding now and where the fuck was Halt? He said he'd be right back!

“Do you need help?” Lord Albert asked, reaching for the ranger's shoulder to steady him, maybe. Crowley lurched out of his reach, stumbling a bit. His heart was beating so hard it hurt.

“No, no,” he gasped out, “I'm okay-” Lord Albert took another step towards him- “just leave me alone, please,” the ranger snapped, stumbling back again and barely catching himself on the wall this time. His senses were screaming danger. Fuck the plan. Crowley needed to get out of here and he needed to leave now.

Stumbling for the door, he awkwardly tried to smile at a few nobles before giving up on social niceties. He just needed to get to his quarters and crash. Halt would find him there, he would understand. In fact, he'd probably be thankful that Crowley had given up on brute-forcing it through the night.

As Crowley approached the door- a side one, he'd never leave through the front even in this state, he was still a ranger, for fuck's sake- the room abruptly titled and he stumbled. The floor rushed up to meet him. Before he could hit it, though, a pair of strong hands caught him. Crowley squinted around the pain behind his eyes, looking up and meeting a pair of worried green eyes.

“Crowley? What's going on? Are you alright? Where's Halt?” Duncan rapidly questioned him in an undertone, glancing around quickly for some kind of danger. Crowley shook his head, wincing. Struggling, he managed to sway upright with a good bit of help from the king. Crowley stumbled back a step away from him, waving Duncan off when he tried to take his weight again. The ranger felt his stomach twist again. “Crowley?”

“I'm alright,” Crowley wheezed out, “I think I just need some air,” taking another careful step away from the king, Crowley finally managed to turn and stumble out of the ballroom into the cool, dark hallways, ignoring the king calling out for him. Beyond Duncan, he heard Lord Albert's voice carry out, “I'll go check on him, my Lord.” Crowley sped up, doing his best to keep his bearings as he stumbled through the dark, twisting halls of the castle.

Heart beating fast, Crowley swung around another corner, catching his elbow on the edge. With a yelp and a stumble, he tripped and pitched towards the ground. This time, he did hit the ground, barely managing to catch himself. The floor was hard and cold under his stinging palms and he tried to drag himself up, tried to slow down his breathing, anything, but his limbs weren't fucking working. He couldn't get up, couldn't speak, he couldn't even think- Crowley's head was spinning so badly, it was pounding, he was going to die- and he needed to get up, get away, but he didn't even know where he fucking was. Where was Halt? He needed Halt.

“Crowley!” the cold fear in the ranger's stomach flipped and he fought harder to move, to get up, to run- but he was too slow, too weak, he couldn't move- “There you are darling! There was no need to run away-” Lord Albert was almost purring and Crowley really was going to be sick- “nothing in that drink will hurt you,” but you will.

Lord Albert was crouching next to him now, and he had his hands in Crowley's hair and on his shoulders and he was pushing him down Crowley wanted him off wanted him to get away- and he was struggling- struggling against Lord Albert, against the darkness threatening to take over, the sluggishness in his limbs- but the man was easily pushing him down, climbing on top of him and Crowley couldn't fucking breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't even think- and with a final internal scream for Halt, for Duncan, for anyone, please, just fucking anyone- the drugs took a hold and pulled him into the darkness.

~

It was silent and dark. 

Opening his eyes slowly, Crowley stared around him, head heavy and still pounding. He was in his quarters, in his bed. When had he gotten back here? What was going on? The heaviness threatened to take him back under but he fought against it, trying to take stock. 

He was shaking, and he didn't remember anything. Was he sick? Hungover? No, neither- he felt drugged. When had he been drugged? Crowley's stomach churned and he barely managed to roll over before he was puking off the side of the bed.

Crowley heard hurried footsteps and a moment later, and hand was rubbing his back and an accented voice was murmuring for him to take it easy, that he was okay. He didn't feel very okay, throat and eyes burning, but he trusted Halt, so he relinquished his weak hold on consciousness.

~

The sun woke Crowley. It was wickedly bright, and he winced and pulled his arms around his head. His head still felt sluggish but at least his thoughts were operating. His stomach hurt and his throat was burning and rough. Sitting up and ignoring the sharp stabbing pains in his head, Crowley carefully sorted through his thoughts. He remembered Halt's arrival, and he remembered Halt being worried about him- Halt left? Lord Albert offered him something- rum, that's what it was! Crowley's memory was blank after that. Bastard drugged me! Crowley realized with horror and growing repulsion. What had happened after that?

Staring at his hands, Crowley didn't want to consider what all could have happened. Clearly, he was back in his room now but that didn't mean that nothing had happened. He didn't feel like it had but again, that meant nothing. Just like everything else with Lord-fucking-Albert. A bunch of loose ends he couldn't tie together. What if they found him and thought that he'd willing gone with him? Or no one had found him and Lord Albert had brought him back? Or they'd found them but it had been too late? The cold fish in his stomach flipped again and he fought down the urge to throw up.

Straining his mind as hard as possible, Crowley tried to come up with anything else. Just one more memory, he silently begged. But he couldn't. It was just blank and taunting. He didn't know what had happened- probably never would. Crowley covered his face with his hands and sighed, unsure what to make of the situation and trying to ignore the cold, queasy pit in his stomach that continued to ponder what had happened in the time he couldn't remember. He scratched distractedly at his wrists, trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking. 

Crowley slumped down and buried his head all the way into his arms with an exhausted sigh, hating the way his skin was crawling with discomfort. He hated how he felt the need to scrub away the shame and fear he felt all over. Crowley had no reason to be ashamed, he hadn't done anything wrong! Lord Albert just- he just-

The anger and the urge to cry hit him all at once. Crowley fought against the feeling, against the tears. He didn't want to feel anything right now. He didn't want to let Lord Albert make him feel so fucking helpless. All he wanted to do was hide away where no one could find him and never see anyone ever again. Least of all Lord Albert. What if he was still out there, right now? Waiting? His heart clenched and his legs itched to run, to get away from all this and leave it behind. He could-

Footsteps.

Crowley's head snapped up at the sound, breath catching in his throat.Lord Albert? Halt? Duncan? Some unknown healer or- a familiar head of badly cut hair appeared in the doorway. Eyes widening, the Hibernian ranger stared at the red-haired ranger for a moment. Sharply, Crowley let out the breath he'd been holding and the sound snapped Halt into action.

“Crowley! You're up,” Halt hurried over to the older ranger, sitting on the bed next to him, “how are you feeling?” Crowley flinched when the other man's hand landed on his back. Halt stilled.

“I can't remember anything,” Crowley whispered to Halt, and fuck, it hurt to speak but he needed to know, “what happened?” Halt was silent for a moment before he sighed heavily.

“What's the last thing you remember?” Halt asked softly, and Crowley bit back the anger at the stalling. How was Halt supposed to tell him if he didn't know where to start? Crowley cast his eyes down to the bedsheets, noticing blankly that he'd managed to scratch his wrists raw.

“You left for- for something,” Crowley muttered weakly, twisting his hands tightly in his lap, “and then Lord Albert showed up and offered me a drink and I accepted-” the words started tumbling out, eyes burning- “because I'm an idiot and he must have drugged it and-” Crowley gasped air into his lungs with a hiccup- “and then I don't remember what happened, Halt, I should have been more careful I-”

“No- no, Crowley, none of that,” Halt interrupted gently, pulling Crowley into a hug, “you didn't do anything wrong,” Crowley shook his head, wishing more than anything that he could just stay right here, wrapped up in Halt's arms, and never have to face the rest of the world again. Crowley didn't want to have to explain to Duncan why he hadn't come to him, or to Halt that he had been trying to- what, manipulate the younger ranger into believing him? He didn't know.

“You don't know that,” Crowley told him, voice breaking, “I don't even know that,” he was silent for a moment, trying to hold back the tears, “tell me what happened,” he demanded weakly. Halt was silent for a moment, body tensed.

“Duncan said you were reeling like you were drunk, trying to get out of the hall because you felt sick,” Halt started, voice quiet but steady, “and Lord Albert went after you-” Crowley's stomach flipped- “but Duncan didn't trust him so he called for me and we went after him together. I found you two first,” Halt's quiet voice darkened, “he was on top of you and kissing you- hadn't gotten far. I think you'd just passed out,” Crowley nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Where is he now?” he whispered, hating how damn scared he sounded.

“Locked up in the infirmary. He's not going anywhere,” Halt murmured comfortingly, rubbing soft, gentle circles into Crowley's shoulder.

“Why is he in the infirmary?” Crowley asked softly after a moment, “did you shoot him?” Halt shook his head, silent for a moment.

“I nearly killed him,” Halt finally admitted, no remorse in his voice, “pulled him off of you and beat the shit out of him. Broke his jaw and his collarbone and nose and- the list goes on. Duncan had to pull me off. I would have killed him, Crowley,” the Hibernian's voice was soft and dangerous.

“I wish you had,” the words slipped out and Crowley felt his face flush. How could he tell his best friend he wished he'd murdered someone-

“Me too,” the response was firm and unwavering.

The silence in the room settled and Crowley took a deep breath. He was safe. He was here with Halt, and if he knew anything about Duncan, Lord Albert was going to be locked up forever. Crowley would never have to see him again. The weight in his chest lifted so hard it hurt and just like that, the dam broke and the tears spilled over.

The arms around him tightened protectively, and Halt started to gently rock him back and forth. Crowley buried his face into Halt's shoulder. It was over. It was finally over. And, with that in mind, Crowley took a deep, shaky breath and felt the relief settle deep in his bones.

**Author's Note:**

> *****DISCLAIMER*****
> 
> In this story, there's a fair bit of internal victim-blaming, which is absolutely NOT MY PERSONAL BELIEFS AND VIEWS. You should ALWAYS speak up if someone is making you uncomfortable- you can hopefully be removed from the situation or have them removed. Also, remember that if someone else harms you, it is NOT YOUR FAULT. EVER. Even if you think you should have been able to defend yourself, it doesn't matter! That doesn't mean that it's your fault.
> 
> That being said, I feel like all of the rangers would have trouble dealing with that since they're supposed to be the 'protectors,' not the 'protected.' I hoped to capture those feelings of inadequacy, but understand that that is absolutely not what I believe. I had a bit of trouble ending this but understand that the road to recovery is a long one and full of ups and downs. I just didn't think I could write that properly and do its difficulties justice.
> 
> Stay safe out there friends, the world is full of terrible people.


End file.
